Sick of waiting
by character-absquatulation
Summary: E/D/K/S/alcohol. I like my lemons with hard liquor. I beg of thee, forgive the implausibility, forgive the lack of context... and try to enjoy the ride. "Why not?"
1. any move at all

**Author's Note:** Set some time in the future, villains nominally resolved, as our favorite (anti)heroes awkwardly settle into what's left of their relationships...

I like my lemons with hard liquor. I beg of thee, forgive the implausibility, forgive the lack of context... and try to enjoy the ride.

* * *

><p><em>"It's okay, you know, to love them both. I did."<em>

* * *

><p>It feels like the old house is rotting in the summer sun. The shades are down, and the humid air is killing them slowly. Clothing sticks to backs and all the glasses in the world can't quench their thirst.<p>

There is something impossibly illicit about the way Elena holds her tumbler. Her fingers twist around the glass, twirling the ice back and forth. In all the undead stillness, she is motion and heat, glistening. They try not to watch her, Stefan because he lost her and Damon because he has not won her and Katherine because she will not be outdone.

"You know what?" she inquires into the tight silence. "This is ridiculous." Blue and green and brown eyes all look perplexed at best, without enough of a drunken haze to dull her next words. "I'm sick of hurting this much and feeling this little. I'm sick of not knowing. I'm sick of waiting for one of you to make a move, any move at all." She downs her bourbon like a man, slamming the glass on the coffee table. "Let's just get it over with."

Damon knows, somehow he fucking knows. His jaw slackens, and he covers it with another swig. He looks through the ugly paintings, at the crack in the ceiling paint, anywhere but at her.

Stefan doesn't know, but he knows better than to ask. This is the voice that proposes suicide missions, the voice that demands road trips at 3am. This is the wild side of Elena, and he hates it and misses it too much to play along.

Katherine, ballsy Katherine, is the one to ask. "Get _what_ over with?"

"Let's clear the air. Let's take what we want, get it out of our systems, and go on with our lives."

Katherine's eyes go wide. (Damon's squeeze shut.) She laughs, cackles, glares. "A foursome? You think that'll solve all your problems? Believe me, if group sex was all it took..."

Now Stefan is sputtering, and Damon is cracking, and Elena just sighs. "I've tried everything else."

"But he's my brother!"  
>"Both of you?"<br>"Not like this!"  
>"Why?"<p>

It's Elena's voice that stills them, of course. "Why not?"


	2. in the heat they're frozen

_"It's okay, you know, to love them both. I did."_

* * *

><p>"Why?"<p>

It's Elena's voice that stills them, of course. "Why not?"

She knows she won't win this battle with just words. She peels herself out of her chair and flops almost carelessly onto the red couch. Stefan is so close that their thighs nearly brush, and the arm of Damon's chair is in easy reach... She sprawls just a little further, sliding her feet into her ex's lap and reaching out to stroke his brother's arm.

It's all Katherine can do not to gape like a fish (or a Salvatore, evidently). She didn't think her doppel had it in her, and she has to respect this play. She doubts she personally could convince either brother to give it a go, but if Elena can pull this off... well, Katherine's always been a gambler.

Stefan stares at slender feet, toes painted orange. He doesn't let himself think about how long it's been, or the way she used to purr for him. This is his brother Elena's talking about, and the only two women who've been able to break his heart. How could he say yes? (How could he say no?)

Damon doesn't want his first time with Elena to be like this, with his brother there and Katherine looming. There's so much wrong in this room, in the sticky air and their languid bodies. The taint of this night could ruin them forever- but what if he'll never have her at all? She's _offering_. He lets her pet his bicep, and the indecision he's showing is almost real.

In the heat, they're frozen. The vampires can hear each other's dragging pulses start to tick faster, smell the arousal in the dead air. One by one, they realize that inertia is the only thing holding them all back from this awful hurricane...

"Well?" Elena asks. She lets a foot drift closer to Stefan's groin, squeezes Damon's hand, and gives Katherine a little friendly smile. _Truce, just this once? _Katherine lets a corner of her mouth drift up in reply.

"Dear god," Stefan mutters, fingers running through his perfect hair, and it could mean anything.

"This could be the worst idea you've ever had, and that's impressive," Damon adds. He has to try to talk her out of it, at least. "Do you really want to see us with Katherine? Do you really want me in front of Stefan, and do you have the _gall_ to want Stefan in front of me?"

Elena looks from one face to another, holding each gaze in turn. Brown, green, ice blue. "Yes," she says at last, stroking his palm with her thumb, and the ice cracks.


	3. condensation and salvation

_"It's okay, you know, to love them both. I did."_

* * *

><p>"Do you really want to see us with Katherine? Do you really want me in front of Stefan, and do you have the <em>gall<em> to want Stefan in front of me?"

"Yes," Elena says at last, and the ice cracks.

"Even now, I can't say no to you," Damon whispers bitterly. Resigned and eager, he brings her knuckles to his lips. She shivers in the heat, her legs across Stefan's lap twisting.

Stefan is still, the way a living person cannot ever be. He's let his breathing stop and begged his pounding heart to slow. If he waits long enough, one of them will do something too rash and this insanity will pass. He closes his eyes to withdraw even further- without letting Elena go, he can't bring himself to push her away- and then _movement_ and they snap open again.

Katherine has flown from her chair, it seems. She's sitting between him and Elena on the couch, letting the small of her back rest on the other girl's thighs. She studies Stefan, her face unreadable, and in that moment she looks her true age. Then she turns her back on Stefan, and, ever so slowly, lowers her lips to Elena's.

Elena has an eternal moment, drawn out like taffy, giving her time to run. She can feel the impossible weight of both pairs of Salvatore eyes; it's a burden she's carried for years, and it's why she's here now. Compared to their intensity, these lips just like hers are a relief.

The kiss is soft, hesitant, wet. One of them is mewling, and Elena doesn't even know who, but her right hand is tangled in curls bound by a stranger's hairspray, and her left is clinging to Damon with all the pent up hunger that led her here tonight.

Damon hadn't even dared to fantasize about seeing Elena and Katherine together. Even for his wild horse mind, this is too perverse and lovely. He can see the way their breasts are pressing together, smell their salt, feel Elena's fingernails clawing at his palm. This night will kill him, and he might just go willingly.

The couch creaks as Katherine shifts atop Elena, their legs tangling atop Stefan, who never had the restraint to refrain from dreaming about this sort of scene (who touched himself while imagining it the night before). Even without supernatural hearing, suckling and sighing fill the air. They are condensation and salvation, wrapped in lace and cotton and leather.

Damon watches the last of Stefan's resolve fizzle. Their ragged old eyes meet.  
><em>We won't speak of this again.<br>Of course not._

Stefan gives himself permission to stroke along the lengths of wiry thighs. It's only when they gasp and moan that he remembers to breathe.


	4. a smutty palindrome

_"It's okay, you know, to love them both. I did."_

* * *

><p><em>We won't speak of this again.<br>Of course not._

When Katherine feels Stefan's hand stroke the back of her knee, she smiles against Elena's lips. She writhes, slipping down toward an eerily familiar neck. Of course, she's never tasted her own throat before, and she finds the desire to explore perversely strong.

Just as Katherine's lowering her lips, a strong hand tangles in her hair and yanks her head back up. "Careful, Katherine," Damon whispers. He leans down and kisses Elena's forehead, staring into Katherine's eyes all the while.

Her vision is sparking around the edges from the pleasurable sting, and her grin is wicked. "Of course," she hisses sweetly, and he eases his grip.

Elena's not here to play it safe. She gives her protector a look of gratitude and rage, then yanks Katherine back down. She's rewarded with feathery kisses and benign bites. Ever the lady, Katherine's eyes stay human.

Stefan's fingertips brush from ankles to hips, and all the way back down. Katherine grinds herself back into his lap, nibbling her way down Elena, gnawing at her ribs through her shirt. He grabs her waist, pulling her up to him and burying his face in her hair. She grinds her ass into him, stroking the ribs of the girl below her.

Elena feels Damon's hands slide beneath her, pushing her up to sitting. She squeals a little in protest, but like lightning he's sitting behind her. They mirror each other now, slender backs against broad chests and lesbian kisses at the center. It's a smutty palindrome, Elena thinks to herself, and can't help but giggle.

Damon takes Elena's laugh as encouragement and lets himself caress her, the way he's been aching to do for what feels like decades. It could have been a century of longing, the way he trembles at her breasts. She feels his reverence and wants to worship him in return, but there's no way to turn and face him properly on the narrow couch.

Desperate for sensation, Elena ducks around Katherine's shoulder and knocks her teeth into Stefan's lips. He kisses her back, even as her fingers wind up over her head and into Damon's hair. Their limbs and breaths and feelings are too tangled. All of a sudden, she needs air... "Why don't we take this somewhere roomier?" she whispers into Katherine's hair, even as the other woman is pawing at Damon's shirt.


	5. the dress code

_"It's okay, you know, to love them both. I did."_

* * *

><p>"Why don't we take this somewhere roomier?"<p>

For all their supposed ancient grace, exiting the couch involves elbows and knees, breathy giggles and whispered apologies. At last they're all standing, and Elena takes Damon's hand. Stefan offers his arm to Katherine, and she takes it the way she would have when they first met... though she would have feigned too demure to carry around a bottle in the old days.

They're all full of shy smiles that don't quite sit still on their faces. It's the youngest of the four who leads them through their home, up the stairs and down the hall and through the last creaky door.

This room of the boarding house hasn't been used in awhile. Ghost sheets cover the furniture. It's solemn and quiet and pale here, the sort of space where one is compelled to whisper.

Still the leader, Elena moves to stand beside the bed. Without ceremony, she peels her thin shirt off, tugging it up over her head and letting it drop to the floor. She shimmies out of her shorts, and the undead hold their unnecessary breaths at all that black lace against pale skin. Damon can't help but wonder if she _planned_ this debacle. It had seemed so spontaneous...

Katherine laughs in the stillness, making them all start. With enough fanfare to make up for Elena's simplicity, the vampire strips. Her lingerie is platinum hued, sparkling in the dusty sunbeams. The contrast, the irony of Katherine in white and Elena in black, it's so wrong, and so fitting just now.

Stefan shakes his head wryly. "At least we'll be able to tell you apart a little while longer."

"How could you not know?" Damon whispers, incredulous and cocky. The tension starts to creep away from them, losing its sexual tinge.

"Boys, boys," Katherine croons. "You're being rude."

"Didn't you read the dress code on the invitation?" Elena adds, with that cheerleader smirk they worried she had lost.

Stefan grabs the bottle from Katherine, taking a swig before passing it to his brother. There's something indefinably similar about the way they unbutton their shirts.

Elena can _feel_ them all now, exposing more than just their flesh. So many egos, such painful memories, all wound up in misplaced affections. She wants to pour alcohol on all their wounds, let them heal fresh.

She snatches the bottle and lets the scotch bathe her tongue, and then takes a step across the creaking floor. Her drunk tongue meets her doppel's, exploring a mouth she almost knows.

Another swig, another step. Her next kiss is for Stefan, and it's angry and fierce. It's Wickery Bridge and that dance he missed and the way his eyes still smoulder for her.

Elena pushes her ex's hands off her waist. Two steps and a long gulp later, she's staring at the crease between Damon's eyebrows. She sets the scotch on the specter of a nightstand, and takes his hands in hers. "I know," she reassures against his lips. "I know." This kiss is fragile, full of regrets and maybes- but Elena doesn't want to hypothesize anymore. "I know," she insists, like the words mean something new. She drags his hands to lacy places, and the animal inside him moans.

When they finally fall onto the faded old sheets, Katherine and Stefan are already there.


	6. the point of no return

_"It's okay, you know, to love them both. I did."_

* * *

><p>When Damon and Elena finally fall onto the faded old sheets, Katherine and Stefan are already there. They all wind up tangled together again, legs around arms and kisses running wild. (At least this bed is large enough to accommodate.)<p>

It might be minutes or days, the blurring movements and sharp touches... Katherine strokes the back of Stefan's knees... Elena loses track of whose mouth she's demanding... Damon pulls Katherine's hair again... Stefan suckles on Elena's toes... Elena and Katherine tag team Stefan's belt buckle... Nipples are exposed to air, and then to teeth... Damon never had any underwear to take...

They're all naked now, and feeling hesitant again. The sun is setting, and the point of no return is leaving with it. Stefan sprawls across the mattress, with Katherine's head resting on his stomach and Elena's feet across his ribs. Across from him, Damon leans against the headboard, with Katherine's legs entwining his and Elena's head on his chest. If nothing else, the human is catching her breath.

"Now what?" Katherine asks at last.

"Whatever we want," Elena murmurs, drawing out each syllable in the still air. A thousand thoughts hang in the air, low on the vine, ripe for the plunder.

"And _what_ is it that _you_ want?" Katherine asks in reply, just a hint of acidity on her tongue_._

Elena grins, rueful and bright and older than she has any right to be. "I don't want us to hold back anymore."

Damon blinks at the admission. "Are you sure?" His voice is insistent, soft, as though no one else can hear.

Her smile fades. She looks up at the vampire holding her, and at the two sprawled at her feet. Six hands, six fangs. They could kill her a hundred ways before she could get out of this bed, and might have that many motives for doing it between them... and that's just the physical danger... but Elena Gilbert has been marching straight toward her own death for almost two decades. Why stop now? "Yes."

Damon nods, considering. "You should fuck her then, brother."


	7. feelings as naked as flesh

_"It's okay, you know, to love them both. I did."_

* * *

><p>"I don't want us to hold back anymore."<br>"You should fuck her then, brother."

They're all shades of surprised: amused, puzzled, irritated. "What, being the 'better man' again?" Stefan asks.

"Always," Damon says blandly. "But I know for a fact you never took her without holding back." Damon and Katherine only let themselves smirk a little in the silence, knowing the other pair won't see; Stefan is suddenly intent on the weave of the sheets, and Elena's eyes are on the ceiling.

"But I'll hurt her," Stefan whispers at last. There are memories in those words, of other women on other nights, of blood, of nightmarish ripper fantasies.

It's Katherine who replies, who reassures. "We won't let you." She reaches out and squeezes his hand. Elena sees something of herself in the gesture, and wonders yet again if they are really that different.

Damon watches the expressions cross Elena's face, her feelings as naked as her flesh. Not so long ago, she wouldn't have believed Stefan could hurt her. Now she knows better, and that little truth has aged her so much. There's fear in her eyes, but she still has the Petrova set to her jaw. "Please?" she asks.

Stefan lets himself meet her eyes, and there's no trace of the predator within. His smile is shy, as though this will be their first time- in a way, it will be.

"So what then?" Katherine wonders aloud. "We pair off? I know_ I'm_ not your endgame." Her tone is deceptively sweet.

"No, dearest Katherine, you're not," Damon agrees. "Not tonight. I have a different game in mind. Would you care to ride Stefan's face instead?" Those words earn him Katherine's catty grin.

Stefan hears the Southern gentleman in Damon's tone, and realizes that his brother must be wildly nervous beneath his calm facade. Even when they were alive, he spoke much more informally. "What about you? Not that I know your... habits, but voyeurism doesn't seem quite your style."

Damon chuckles, his nerves showing just a bit. "You're right," he admits at last. He pushes Elena off his chest and turns her to face him. Their eyes meet, and for just a moment there's no one else in the room. "Do you trust me?"

Elena doesn't hesitate. "You know I do."

He takes one deep breath that he doesn't need, then another. "I want to taste you."


	8. if you're brave enough

_"It's okay, you know, to love them both. I did."_

* * *

><p>"Do you trust me?"<br>"You know I do."  
>"I want to taste you."<p>

At his brother's words, Stefan's eyes squeeze shut, veins puffing. "No! I can't do it," he moans, tongue tripping over long teeth.

Elena doesn't scoot away. She _can't_, or this will all be over. She grounds herself in her legs, in Damon's hands on her waist, in her breath. He gives her hip bone a little squeeze- he's there, she's safe.

Katherine stretches herself out over Stefan's body, not sure whether she's keeping him from fleeing or pouncing. "We won't let you hurt her," she says again.

"How can you be sure?" There's real fear in his words. He'll fall off the wagon with just a drop. He'll snap her neck and lap it up. He'll come to and have to reassemble her innards...

No one has moved, nothing has changed, but somehow one vamp's got the other's forearms locked in her dainty little hands. "I've got more than three centuries on you, sweetie." Her edge fades, her eyes soften. "I've got you."

Stefan tries to get free, to throw Katherine off. The old bed creaks, the house moans, but he remains pinned. He whimpers, his eyes still locked shut. "Lena?"

God... "Yeah, Stef?"

"Is this what you want?"

Elena huffs out a laugh. What had she said- she wanted them to stop holding back? Katherine's softening, Stefan's trusting, and Damon's burning. Here they are without their masks. And now this one little question that will decide it all. _What does she want? _Elena knows, she's known all along. She said it herself, she was waiting for him to make a move. "Yeah. Yeah, I think it is."

Stefan whispers back, but somehow it still echoes against the white walls. "Well, if you're brave enough, then so am I."


	9. utterly nerve wracking

_"It's okay, you know, to love them both. I did."_

* * *

><p>"Is this what you want?"<br>"Yeah. Yeah, I think it is."  
>"Well, if you're brave enough, then so am I."<p>

Getting into position isn't graceful. It's awkward and silly, and utterly nerve-wracking. Holy hell, they're really about to do this...

Stefan's lying down now, willing his back to relax into the mattress. This is everything he's ever wanted, it's everything he's never asked for. He's going to taste Katherine again, fuck Elena again, take them both harder than he had the courage for their last times around. The smell of Elena's blood is going to fill the night air, and the people who know him best will keep him from getting a single drop of it. He's too afraid to get excited, too eager to feel the fear.

Katherine sits beside Stefan's head, purple fingernails winding through his silly haircut. She won't be in the spotlight tonight, but she finds herself aching for this encounter anyhow. It's been awhile since she's had someone who actually knew what they were doing with their tongue, and well over a century since she had the pleasure of either Salvatore's body. It's a small favor to them all, holding this boy of hers down; it's even a gift to herself, if she lets herself feel for a moment... and she's feeling indulgent.

Elena crouches between the brothers. She's kneeling over Stefan, studying his face as though she won't get another chance. There's so much_ hurt_ in this little space between them. She feels like the gymnasium clock is ticking down again, but she doesn't know what'll happen when the time runs out. She gives him her punchiest smile anyway, and of course he sees right through it. (That's love, she thinks- him knowing her better than that. It's still fucking love.)

And Damon? Damon's at Elena's back, like always. There's an 'understanding' between them, that he'll keep her safe and she'll try not to break his heart. She doesn't need to look back to feel it (it's Stefan she has to keep an eye on), and he just needs to hear the way her heart shudders when he tucks her hair behind her ear. That's his truth, the only one he needs.

There's this dreadful inertia, this sticky stillness that's keeping them in place. Damon laughs first, and they all find themselves joining in, until their nerves melt a little and this doesn't seem so impossible anymore. "Ready?" he whispers, and then picks up Elena like she weighs nothing and slides her down onto his brother's cock.


End file.
